


You can break things but you can't re-shape them.

by oathkeptroxas



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Outsiders (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 15:53:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oathkeptroxas/pseuds/oathkeptroxas
Summary: | Things you said that I wish you hadn't. |A little insight into Roy's thoughts in the aftermath of the fight they had in outsiders. More of a character study.





	You can break things but you can't re-shape them.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this on my old Roy roleplay blog from years ago.

It hurt to think about, but he knew that Dick had been right. The trouble with dating one of your oldest friends is that they already know everything there is to know about you, so the transition period is stilted, difficult, there’s a shift in dynamic that is sometimes hard to handle.

Your friends call you out on your bullshit, but they stick by you even when they don’t agree with you. Your friends do the stupid shit with you, even though you both know it’s stupid. But, when you’re dating someone, it’s a little different, there’s a deeper, more complex kind of affection. 

Dick had been his best friend, his leader, the one person who he respected and would always follow after. But, Roy had never been a submissive partner, it wasn’t in him to be that way. Roy had always trusted Dick’s judgement in a team dynamic, and it went against the grain a little to argue with him in their personal lives as a result. 

But, on the flip-side, as one of Dick’s oldest friends, Roy had been brutal in his honesty to the other man before. Something that Roy knew about Dick better than most people, was his tendency to take things personally, his affronted response to anyone second-guessing him.

Roy traced a fingertip along the dotted scars in the crook of his elbow, barely noticeable against his freckled skin. They were reminders of when he’d been young and stupid, out of step with his life and seeking validation in all the wrong places, finding distractions everywhere he shouldn’t.

Another thing that not a lot of people realized about Dick Grayson: He had a lashing out period. Whenever someone hit too close to the mark, he snapped back with something just as below the belt, an instinctive defense mechanism that completely bypassed his brain-to-mouth filter. Roy had been the target of it many times over the years of their friendship, but never had it hit quite this hard before, an instant, stinging pain in his chest that made him feel like filth.

There was a dawning of comprehension in Dick’s eyes instantly, but he was too proud, too stubborn and too filled with self-righteous fury to apologize, he’d walked out and no matter how loud Roy called after him, he couldn’t make him stay.

Hours had passed since the fight had occurred, Roy was sat in the dark on the foot of their bed. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his tired face, the fingers of his opposite hand still absently caressing the long-faded track marks of his youth. Dick had always been supportive, he’d known how difficult things had been for him, and it tore him apart to know that one of the most important people in the world to him had flung his greatest failure in his face just because he’d been unwilling to listen to the truth.

The door creaked open and Dick stepped in, his silhouette moved across the space between them to kneel on the carpet at Roy’s feet. He took Roy’s hands in his own tightly, his eyes were full of regret. They didn’t speak, for a prolonged moment they simply stared. Then suddenly, just before the tension could once again mount, Dick leaned down to press his lips to the exposed crook of Roy’s elbow, the skin was soft under his mouth and Roy’s breath hitched. 

This was the closest they’d come to saying sorry.


End file.
